


Be Still

by PromptsforthewhumP



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Tales from the Gas Station
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Fluff, Hurt Jack (Tales from the Gas Station), Injury, Potential Spoilers, Self-Indulgent, Sleepy Cuddles, Tales from the Gas Station Volume 3, Whump, but not really, relationship if you squint, seriously this is just self indulgent, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PromptsforthewhumP/pseuds/PromptsforthewhumP
Summary: A purely self-indulgent fic in which Rosa and Jerry look after Jack during the events of volume three.I'm not sure - I just wanted some comfort for Jack.
Kudos: 17





	Be Still

Jack trembled violently as though he’s just been pulled from ice. He may as well have been judging by the state they found him in; staggering from the forest at the edge of the gas station, soaked to the bone with blood, sweat, river water, rain and tears. They just about caught him when he tripped on his prosthetic, groaning as unwanted strain was put upon his old injuries. Jerry and Rosa had gently lowered his shaking frame to the gas station floor, calling his name, but he only responded in pained groans and receding jolts when Rosa’s careful hands pressed in all the wrong places. 

“What the hell happened?” The female cashier asked Jerry, rolling Jack’s head to one side to investigate one of his festering wounds. 

“Mmm, s-Spencer…” Jack muttered, and that was all the duo needed to hear before hauling him to his feet - waited for him to finish throwing up a concerningly coloured vomit - and then pulled him into the back of his own Nissan. For the entire duration of the journey, Rosa tried to offer some comfort, linking her arms around him loosely as to not harm him further. He was exhausted, damp, filthy and stank to high heaven but refused to shut his bloodshot eyes. His heart hammered In his chest as the world flew past the window at illegal speeds. Jerry kept throwing concerned glances back at him, but managed to get back to Jack’s place in the suburbs without further incident.

Rosa didn’t comment on the size or the state of the place as she helped manoeuvre a borderline comatose Jack through the door to the threshold. Jack tripped over his own feet, well foot, and nearly went down. This reminded Rosa of the task at hand. She steeled herself and conjured a plan while they made the arduous journey up the dusty stairs. The musty smell, the untouched possessions and the frigid air of the place suggested he hadn’t been here in a long while… that or Jerry just broke into a random person’s house. She shook her head to maintain her wavering focus.

“Okay, he needs a bath, new set of clothes and a good meal, and he’s not going to bed until I see him take some kind of medicine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jerry saluted, helping Rosa to manoeuvre Jack to the master bedroom. They presumed it was Jacks, considering the strewn about clothes and piles of discarded books coating the unmade bed in a thick layer of convoluted plots and bizarre adventures.

“Jack, sweetie?” Rosa pushed his sweaty, greasy locks from his eyes, frowning when his skin radiated an intense heat. She didn’t bother to ask her next question, figuring that he’d have no idea how to navigate the bath in his condition.

While Jerry began carefully piling books along one wall, she rested Jack on the edge of the tub, turning the shower head on at full blast to warm up the freezing room and to fill the tub. She got to work removing his shoes, socks and pants. With shaking hands, Jack assisted her with the prosthetic and she grimaced at the mottled bruises coating his stump and disappearing beneath his boxers. Blood had already clotted around the areas where the limb had rubbed most.

Next was the hoodie and black t-shirt, both of which she tossed in the direction of the trash bin, overflowing with old blood-soaked bandages. Her heart sank when she saw him, pale and exposed beneath the fluorescent lights. His chest was a horrendous sight of half healed, half infected slashes, bruises coated every other available surface like a bad watercolour painting, and his chest heaved with every painful breath. Silently, with eyes full of tears, she helped him into the half-full tub; allowing him one last shred of decency by leaving his underwear on. Once she was satisfied he would not drown, she excused herself to find some medical supplies, figuring a brief soak would do him some good at least.

When Rosa entered the bedroom she was shocked at how quickly Jerry had picked the place up. The window was open, which allowed for the musty smell to disperse rapidly into the night air; the books were piled high atop the overflowing shelf on the same wall of the bathroom door, and the bed at the centre of the room was made up with fresh sheets. Organised on the end of the bed were three sets of clean clothes and he was busily carding trash into a black sack.

“How is he?” He asked, the question ladened with uncharacteristic concern.

“I don’t know.” She said, voice small and trembling. The severity of the situation was finally getting to her, and it took everything in her power to keep it together. Jerry nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer for now.

“Okay,” he dropped the trash bag and picked up a pile of clothes, handing them to her as he said, “There’s another bathroom down the hall, take these and freshen up. When you come back, can you bring the medical kit from the living room? It should be on the dining table.”

She nodded determinedly and dove into action; the task setting her into motion. Jerry used the opportunity to check on Jack.

He was slumped over the edge of the slowly filling tub. Dirty water dripped from the edge and a comforting steam hung in the air as the insomniac let the warm water pelt his bruised back, however it did nothing to ease his tension.

“Hey Jackerino.” Jerry announced his arrival, but the cashier paid no mind; he just relished in the water like he’d hadn’t bathed in months... when was the last time he had a proper shower? Jerry suppressed the uncomfortable thought and reached for the shower attachment, bringing it down and rinsing Jack’s shaggy black hair, uncaring if any water spilled onto the tiled floor. Blood and muck rolled down his pale back and into the water, swirling into a disgusting human soup. 

“Come on buddy, you can’t take up all the hot water,” the taller man joked, dropping the hose into the tub and squeezing copious amounts of shampoo onto Jack’s head. Jerry may have got a little carried away creating designs with the sudsy hair - his favourite being the spiked Mohawk - but once he was done, he was satisfied that it was clean if the grey/brown/red runoff had anything to say about it. Jack hissed involuntarily a few times when Jerry uncovered multiple hidden gashes on his hairline, but otherwise remained silent, basking in the gentle affection Jerry only reserved for him.

Once Jack’s hair was also conditioned because: ‘come on guys, it’s basic hair maintenance!’ He moved onto lathering up a washcloth and scrubbed at every festering wound and patch of grime. Again, Jack didn’t wince, not even when Jerry aimed the showerhead at his skeletal chest to clean the wounds... they did not look pretty...

“Okay buddy.” Jerry said, pulling the plug on the full tub and switching off the water. “Here’s a washcloth to do whatever else, and I’ve left some clothes on the toilet-seat. If I don’t see you in ten minutes I will barge in here guns blazing, understand?”

It took a moment, and it was barely noticeable, but Jack eventually nodded with feverish eyes, grasping at the now soiled washcloth, willing for his body to stop shaking despite the stifling heat of the bathroom.

“Good man,” Jerry clapped him over the less bruised shoulder, then left him, allowing the door to shut with a soft click. For all intents and purposes; Jack was well and truly exhausted. It took him three minutes to pull himself out of the tub, and a further five to dry himself - he’d had to sit on the tiled floor just to complete the task. Ever since he was piled into the car, Jack’s world spun continuously, twisting his stomach in uncomfortable knots as he attempted to drive down the nausea and pain. Unfortunately, the bath did nothing to lessen that fact. He’d just about pulled the soft shorts on over the clean boxers before Jerry re-entered, opting to say: ”Knock knock!” instead of creating the noise with his fist. 

His body ached, his chest was sore and his stump was raw with pain; he wanted nothing more than to escape under some sheets and hide there until hell froze over. Jerry put a steadying hand on his trembling shoulder and used the other to once again confirm his fever. There was a knock at the door and Rosa entered carrying a medium-sized box. Her heart sank when she saw the pathetic figure lent against the side of the tub, good leg sprawled in front of him.

“I’ve bought the supplies.” She said to Jerry, presenting the box.

“Perfect, his wounds are clean but his chest looks infected. He’s too far gone for stitches, so bandages are just going to have to do.”

Rosa bit her bottom lip in thought, desperately suppressing the intense voice that screamed ‘hospital’ in the back of her mind. Jerry continued:

“Can you hold him while I wrap his chest up? He doesn’t have the strength and I don’t want him pulling open any scabs.”

“Of course,” Rosa nodded, preparing herself to provide the best comfort she’d ever given. She knelt in front of Jack and pulled him forward, cradling the back of his head with one hand and caressing his shoulders with the other. She felt him tense and groan as Jerry applied copious amounts of disinfectant ointment to the raw wounds. He continued to whimper pathetically when rolls of white gauze were neatly wrapped around his torso.

He shifted more fervently when Jerry reached the lower ribs, and the two coherent people quickly realised that the bruising definitely meant broken ribs. Jerry stabilised them as much as possible, and by the end of the ordeal Jack was a trembling, feverish mess.

Jerry used the rest of the salve to cover his superficial scratches and applied bandaids to the deeper ones. He applied a bandage to Jack’s stump and another to his ankle that looked pretty damn sprained. Afterwards, they carefully pulled a hoodie over Jack’s head and manoeuvred him into bed.

Rosa stepped back silently.

“He’s so small.” Rosa sighed aloud, noting how the double bed dwarfed him and how out of place he looked in it. Jerry finished tucking the sheets up to his chest and grunted noncommittally: just as his stomachs rumbles dwarfed Jack’s fevered murmurs for a solid few seconds. It took him a moment to realise that she meant how skinny he had got. It didn’t take nearly as much bandaging to patch Jack up as Jerry expected, and the guy looked so much older than his mid-twenties because of his sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks. The blond straightened up and turned to Rosa, his trademark movie-star smirk on his face. 

“I’m hungrier than a horse on Sunday.” He announced, diving into his pocket for his phone, “I’ll order us some food.”

And with that, he left the room to make a call. Rosa used the time to drape a cool washcloth over Jack’s forehead and coerce him into taking two painkillers to at least try to ease his pain.

“I just want to sleep.” He admitted tiredly, voice trembling with unshed emotions. Rosa looked at him pitifully and pushed back his now fluffy hair.

“I know, sweetie,” she sighed, “Just close your eyes, I’m right here.”

“If- if I close my eyes-“ Jack stammered, ignoring Rosa’s attempt at shushing him. “Then, I won’t ever wake up.”

“Oh, Jack.” She sighed, placing her hands on his burning shoulders. “I’ll make sure you never go anywhere, okay?”

He thought it over for a minute.

“M’kay,” He slurred, his voice barely a whisper, and closed his eyes. The girl watched him like a hawk until Jerry returned minutes later, a triumphant smile on his face.

“I hope you guys like pizza because that was the only place that’s open.”

“Perfect!” She beamed, hands still not leaving Jack’s trembling frame.

“Guys skinnier than a toothpick, so I ordered extra sides, too. When was the last time he ate?”

Rosa didn’t even want to consider that idea, so her silence was answer enough.

Within an hour, they’d managed to get Jack to eat two slices and down half a bottle of water. At least it was better than nothing, so they packed away the rest of the food in the otherwise empty fridge after their feast, then returned to bed. Rosa and Jerry flanked Jack on either side, also curled beneath the covers. Neither mentioned how Jerry had a protective arm slung over Jack’s stomach and simultaneously held Rosas thigh as she was propped against the pillows.

Jack, of course, was awake but feeling absolutely miserable, an no amount of ‘Jerryisms’ could change that fact... until Rosa curiously picked up the nearest book: a science fiction novel about a thirty-year-old guy stuck in a chosen one plot line and thumbed it open. It hadn’t been read yet, judging by how the spine cracked with the movement.

“I was saving that for book club.” Jack slurred, eyeing the cover from his prone form, and the girl’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

“Well then, let’s read it together.” Rosa smiled.

“Aww yeah story time!” Jerry cried in delight. Rosa smiled and turned to the first page.

“Prologue,” She began, “In the remains of a once great hall five figures sat hunched in their thrones...”

Jerry fell asleep after the first couple of pages, and Rosa made it to chapter four before her eyes refused to stay open.

“Sorry,” Rosa yawned, leaving back onto the pillows and holding Jack’s bruised hand beneath the covers.

“S’okay,” He slurred, and added with all the sincerity he could muster: “I love you guys.”

“We know.” Rosa responded sleepily, giving Jack’s hand a gentle but reassuring squeeze. 

The insomniac closed his eyes and waited.


End file.
